Page 100 of Winning His Wager

“We can head down the hall.” The family had put her and Fletcher in a room together just outside the family entrance, on the first floor. Dylan had been in there before, but now she was making no pretense of hiding what she felt for this man. He was in there with her, and no one had questioned that at all.

Dylan had found home. With him.

“In a bit. Quade is stopping by. I want to check on him.” They had learned that the man Quade had fought that night was one of the men who was responsible for what had happened to Brandt Barratt’s family in Finley Creek. Quade’s aunt Heather had been there, had been hurt pretty badly. She had almost died. To know Quade had encountered one of those men in Wyoming had struck him hard.

Quade had fought an armed man with his bare hands—a man who had hurt Quade’s own family.

That had rocked Quade, Dylan suspected, and she wanted to make sure her bestie was going to be okay. He was very sensitive under that Wonkus McBubbles exterior.

Dixie was there then. She was covering the front desk for Darcey, who was off arguing with Martin Tyler somewhere. Dylan really hoped her oldest sister just got naked with that gorgeous Tyler man already. There was a lot of fire those two needed to work out.

But it was Dixie she was going to focus on next, she thought. Her big sister was having a problem of some sort—with one seriously gorgeous pediatrician named Seriously Sexy Dr. Shane Lowell. Dylan had questions…

“How are you both feeling?” Dixie asked.

“Tired,” Dylan said. “We’re going to sneak away and… take a nap… soon.”

“Sure you are. Napping. Right. Someone just called. They’re looking for you specifically. Can you stick around for another half hour, or is your nap too pressing?”

Nope. Her big sister wasn’t a fool. Dylan shot Dixie a wicked grin. “I think we can wait another half hour. But Fletchie is really, really sleepy right now.”

“Sure he is.”

“Fletchie is exhausted,” the man in question said. “He really wants…that nap.”

“So who is it? Coming to visit us?” Dylan asked, arranging the quilt over her lap more fully. There were male hands tucked under that quilt, and everything. She didn’t want to scandalize her poor, innocent big sister or anything.

“A relative. They’ll be here in about five minutes.” Dixie shot her a knowing look. “Behave yourself. He is not up tonappinganytime soon.”

“I know, I know.”

Her dad and mom were eating lunch in the dining room, Ben had lured Dusty off somewhere—probably across the road tonap—and now it was just her and Fletcher in the lobby of the inn, right next to the fire. Together.

She snuggled closer. This felt right. Like she was finally at home at the inn. But well… she’d figured it out. Dylan was home with him—it didn’t matter where they were, as long as they were together.

A man came in the big, hand-carved doors far older than Dylan. He came right to Fletcher and Dylan.

“Fletcher,” the man said, pulling off his hat. Fletcher’s uncle Phil stood there—he looked a great deal like Bruce, but shorter, a bit older. With a far kinder look in his eyes. Dylan liked Phil Tyler very much. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. But I’ll be fine. Where’s Glenna today?” Fletcher asked.

“She’s in the restroom down by the dining room. We were looking for you both. Well, for Dylan mostly,” Phil said. He leaned over and hugged her. “I’m sorry for what Bruce did, honey. If I ever get the chance, I’ll kick him in the rear for you. I promise.”

She believed him. This was the kind of man Fletcher would grow up to be someday. Phil was one of the kindest-hearted men she had ever met. He was one of her favorite Tylers in Masterson, too.

“So why were you looking for me?” Dylan asked.

“Glenna. There is something she wants to talk to you about.” He looked over Dylan’s shoulder. His eyes sparked—with love. “Here they come now.”

Dylan turned—gently; she was still hurting, after all. Phil’s wife Glenna, a counselor at the center where Dylan’s mom went, stood there. She had a blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms. Probably one of Phil’s daughters’ babies. Tylers had lots of babies. She’d heard around town Tylers were really good at making more of themselves.

She was counting on it.

Which… Fletcherlings. They had already decided on four. They’d pick out names later.

“Hi.” Dylan really liked Glenna. She just had no idea why Glenna wanted to talk to her specifically. “Who is this?”

Glenna pulled the blanket back. A tiny baby of around two months or so was sound asleep in her arms. “Dylan, I’d like you to meet Kennedy Taylor Carnes. Her first daddy called her Katie.”

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